


instead we're left with history

by cityrisings



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Exes, Florist Na Jaemin, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pining, Reincarnation, Soulmates, Unrequited Crush, but more angst than fluff, death/dying mentions, the aus listed are the various lives they've spent together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28586091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cityrisings/pseuds/cityrisings
Summary: No matter if Jeno loves him, hates him, grows up with him, is a complete stranger, or shoots him through the chest, Jaemin still falls for him, time and time again.He made a promise, after all.or: a 25 lives au, where Jaemin never leaves Jeno's side.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 9
Kudos: 57
Collections: NCTV Secret Santa 2020





	instead we're left with history

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> previous title was "in the life before this one (two people were in love)"
> 
> hello i am sorry for this procrastinated mess!! this was written for the nctv secret santa exchange on twitter and i hope you like it dreamscape <3 [i did not do the 'there was only one bed' trope. i grovel on the ground in apology.]
> 
> this fic is based off the poem “25 lives” by tongari, but due to a lack of time and creativity, there is one line of the poem that unfortunately didn’t make it into the fic sobs i am sorry T__T
> 
> cws for the fic // death , mentions of death , mention of injury [not graphic at all!] 
> 
> title taken from ‘occidentalism' by sally wen mao.

The late afternoon light streams hazily through the bay windows of the library Jaemin's working in.

Shifting in his seat, he checks his watch, noting that it's a quarter till two. _Good, about fifteen more minutes until he arrives._

He stretches as he looks around, neck cracking with a satisfying _pop_ , checking to make sure the seats at the table are filled with his belongings so no one else would sit next to him.

Jaemin lets his eyes wander, lazily skimming over the people's heads. The quiet murmurs of students and civilians going about their business are interrupted occasionally by the loud clang of the vending machine nearby. Seeing as the person he's waiting for isn't here yet, he sighs and places his head down against the smooth wood of the table, closes his eyes, and reminisces.

-+-

_The very first time I remember you, you are blonde, and you don't love me back._

-+-

Jaemin huffs out a breath and watches it puff out in a cloud of white in front of him as he waits for the bus to take him home. 

It’s a snowy day in London, one that tells people to hurry inside as fast as they can to be with their loved ones. Unfortunately for Jaemin, he doesn’t have that luxury thanks to a lack of a personal automobile, so he resigns himself to numb fingers and a reddened nose for another ten minutes until his double-decked savior comes rumbling up to the stop. 

There’s no one else outside aside from the four other people clustered around the bus stop, awkwardly standing together in a silent attempt to stay warm. Tapping his scuffed black loafers against the ground listlessly, Jaemin allows his mind to wander.

_He would have liked this weather. I remember he would always drag me along, insisting it was the perfect opportunity to make snowmen in the powder snow._

Jaemin shakes his head, dispelling all thoughts about a certain eye smile and winter afternoons playing in the snow. He looks out at the darkened promenade around him, observing the way the ornate lampposts lining the streets begin to slowly flicker on, one by one as the night begins to settle in.

It’s then when he sees a dark figure walking up to the stop all bundled up in a felt winter coat the color of coal, and he blanches.

 _How funny_ , Jaemin thinks bitterly. _For your ex to show up for the first time in two years right when you're thinking about them._

Jaemin honestly is surprised he hasn’t bumped into Jeno earlier, knowing full well the other man works at the insurance firm a couple of blocks down from his company. He thinks that if he was Jeno, he would have moved away the moment they broke up, unable to handle the possibility of seeing the other man again. Repressed memories of arguing, screaming, and tears surface from the depths of his mind, and he wonders who would ever want to stay in a city that reminds him of the person he loathes the most.

Well, it’s not like Jaemin’s one to talk.

Guess both of them are masochistic like that. 

But that was where their similarities ended, because even after all this time...

 _He’s changed his hair_ , Jaemin notes, subtly admiring the way the icy blonde looks on the man through the corner of his eyes. He’s about to walk away from the curb when Jeno notices him. 

The man widens his eyes in recognition, before narrowing them and turning away with a huff, resolutely staring in the opposite direction. 

Jaemin stares at the broad back turned towards him and feels an ache in his heart, but he knows better than to stir up the past. No matter: he can pretend nothing ever happened between the two of them. If that’s what Jeno wants, Jaemin will comply.

_But yet even after all this time…_

The difference was that even after everything that’s happened, Jaemin has never stopped loving Jeno. And that was his fatal flaw.

-+-

_The next time, you are brunette, and you do._

-+-

“Your Highness! I've been looking everywhere for you! The visiting dignitaries have already arrived and are waiting for you at the front hall!”

Jaemin jolts his head and hurriedly closes the book he was reading with a yelp as he scrambles out of the oriel he was sitting in.

"They've arrived already? I thought it was tomorrow..."

"No, your Highness, they were supposed to have arrived today. If you weren't busy sword fighting Chenle with your asparagus at dinner yesterday, you would have heard that they would be arriving earlier than anticipated."

Jaemin grins nervously, avoiding his butler's disappointed gaze as he lets out an "Aha..."

"Um, how long have they been waiting? Ten minutes?"

His butler levels him with an unimpressed expression. " _One hour_. Best start moving now if you don't want your father to be any angrier than he is. You know his temper."

Jaemin shudders, mentally agreeing, before skirting past his butler with a muttered thanks. 

Jaemin runs through the familiar white marble halls of the palace he grew up in, savoring the way he can feel the wind caressing his hair, heels clicking satisfyingly on the floors with every step he takes. Once he reaches the top of the stairs, he hops on and slides down the banister with a practiced ease to the first floor before landing on his feet.

Well, he _would_ have landed on his feet, if it weren't for the fact one of his pant legs got snagged by one of the ornaments on the stairs, tripping him to go sprawling on the floor instead.

As he groans in pain and embarrassment, he suddenly sees a shadow appear in front of him on the ground, prompting him to look up.

When he does, he loses his breath instantly, momentarily forgetting his public humiliation.

Fluffy brown hair styled into tousled waves frame the round eyes that peer down at him as the tall boy extends a hand out. "Are you okay?" he asks, strong eyebrows marred with concern. 

Jaemin sits on the floor in numb shock, his brain slowly short-circuiting as he continues to stare at the handsome stranger in front of him.

"Uh..." he says eloquently, before realizing the compromising position he was putting the other in. "Oh! Yeah, sorry. Thanks." Jaemin sputters out, hurriedly grabbing his hand and helping himself up. No need to embarrass himself any more than he already did.

"Sorry, I'm running late for something, while I usually would stop to talk to cute boys I see, I have to go-" Jaemin begins, turning around to leave before feeling a hand on his wrist holding him back.

"Wait!" Jaemin looks back, quirking a brow up at the sudden outburst. The boy sheepishly grins, before asking, "Is it, by any chance, a meeting with the dignitaries from the Eastern Isles?"

Jaemin feels as exposed as a freshly peeled egg.

"W-why does it matter to you? Who are you, and what are you doing in this part of the palace?" he tries, trying to be assertive or whatever his manners teachers yapped at him about in their lessons.

"I'm Lee Jeno, second prince of the Eastern Isles. My brother Doyoung is meeting with your parents as of this moment. I was just making my way back to the throne room."

Jaemin stares. Then, feels his mouth move of its own accord as he deadpans:

“Ah. Is that so?” 

_Real smooth, Jaemin._

He panics.

“Please forgive my rudeness!” he all but yells, clasping his hands together in front of him as he bows into a pleading position. He peeks open one eye hesitantly, gauging Jeno's response.

To his relief, Jeno laughs. "It's okay, nothing to be so formal about. We’re the same age, anyways.”

Jaemin narrows his eyes at that, about to ask how Jeno knows who he is before the foreign prince interrupts him with a line that sends his neurons into overdrive. 

“And besides," he continues. "I'm rather inclined to be nice to pretty boys who call me cute." Jeno smiles warmly, eyes sweetly curving up into twin crescents. "And your name is...?"

Jaemin stands stock-still as he begins to feel a warm flush creeping across his face as Jeno’s words register in his brain. 

_Pretty...boy...him?!?!?_

“What’s the point of asking if you already know who I am...” Jaemin grumbles, looking down towards the suddenly extremely fascinating floor tiles. Jeno says nothing and continues to beam instead.

"...I'm Jaemin. Na Jaemin. Crown Prince of the Southern Valley." He eventually lets out. He clears his throat. "Nice to meet you, Prince Lee."

"Please," the boy chuckles. "Call me Jeno."

“Jeno, then.” Jaemin smiles. Jeno offers his arm, nodding towards the double doors at the end of the hall where he knew his parents were waiting.

“Why don't we head back towards the throne room, Prince Na? I’ll try to cover for you, as a token of our future friendship.”

 _For the amount of flirting you’re doing right now, I’m not so sure about this ‘friendship’ you’re talking about,_ Jaemin thinks exasperatedly.

He takes Jeno’s arm anyway and smiles cheekily.

“Please, call me Jaemin.”

-+-

_After a while, I give up trying to guess if the color of your hair means anything, because even when you don't exist, I'm always in love with you._

-+-

The sweet smell of carnations wafts through the air. Jaemin carefully wraps the bouquet with a strand of twine, tying the finishing knot into a bow and setting it aside on the counter.

He slowly and methodically takes off his gear. He hangs his apron up, puts his gloves inside the toolbox, and takes off his employee ID to put in his canvas bag. He looks at the bouquet again: blush-pink carnations dotted with sprigs of baby’s breath. Mauve heather cuttings are interspersed between the soft petals, and the entire bouquet is wrapped with white and brown paper tied off with white twine.

Pink is Jaemin’s favorite color. He never was able to let go of his habit of giving pink bouquets, especially when it came to _him_.

As he leaves the backroom, flowers in hand, he bumps into someone, round eyes and high eyebrows arched up in surprise.

"Leaving early today, Jaemin?"

"Yup, I’ll have to leave closing up to you today, Mark, is that ok? It’s an important day for me."

Mark fixes him with a knowing look, smile tight.

“Well, I won’t keep you then. Say hi to him for me, will you?”

“Of course.”

Bouquet in hand, he steps out into the sunny April afternoon and listens to the tinkle of the bell get carried away by the slight wind as he heads towards the metro station. Every sound is amplified to Jaemin. The slight sigh of the wind, the hiss of the subway doors sliding closed, the hum of the car, the sound of his shoes crunching against gravel, the creaking of the wrought iron gates. 

The gates.

Jaemin stands at the front of the entrance and looks up.

Walking through the gates is the hardest part. 

White monuments of various sizes dot the scene before him, willow trees gently arching over their interred charges. Thinking about what lies ahead of him, Jaemin forces himself to place his foot down, one in front of the other propelling him forwards.

 _Don’t be so depressed. Imagine the look on his face when he sees you so down,_ he chides himself playfully. He lets a small smile back onto his face as he strolls down the concrete path, muscle memory honed from years of visitation guiding him to his destination.

Once he gets there, he crouches down to brush off the leaves and dust that has gathered on the hard granite, before carefully placing the bouquet on the tombstone. 

_Ashes to ashes, dust to dust._

He stays silent for a while, lost in thought, before speaking.

"Hey. It’s been a while. Mark says hi. Lele and Jisung are doing well in uni. Renjun and Hyuck signed another record deal too."

Silence echoes throughout the graveyard.

“Me? I think the flowers say everything I need to say. You always did hate pink, after all. I had to bring it to you, just for old times sake.”

Jaemin smiles wider now as he opens his mouth to ask:

“How many years has it been, Jeno?”

The only response he gets is the rustle of the treetops in the breeze, pink carnation petals fluttering upward and away into the vast unknown above.

-+-

_I remember most fondly those lifetimes where we get to grow up together, when you share your secrets and sorrows and hiding places with me._

-+-

Jeno’s missing again. 

But it’s okay, because even while Jeno and Jaemin’s moms are panicking and calling each other over the phone on his whereabouts, Jaemin knows where his best friend is.

He quietly exits from the back door, eight-year-old limbs slipping through the hole in his backyard’s old wooden fence, and looks out towards the levee that runs behind his house. He looks towards the banks, and sure enough, he can see Jeno’s hunched figure sitting on a particularly thick pile of reeds.

He walks over and sits right next to him, plopping down on a softer patch of grass next to Jeno.

For a while, the only sounds that could be heard are the incessant buzz of cicadas, the occasional bird squawk, and Jeno’s muffled sniffles.

It’s a while before Jeno speaks. 

“Dad died.”

Jaemin stays quiet, silently staring at the ripples across the murky water.

“I can’t see him anymore. He can’t give me piggyback rides, or tickle my stomach with his beard, or hug me to sleep anymore. I can’t play Transformers with him, can’t watch Star Wars with him, can’t do anything with him anymore.”

Jaemin cocks his head, thinking.

“And I’m afraid that everyone is going to leave me just like Dad did. Mom, Bongsik, Seol, Nal, Mark, Renjun, Hyuck, Chenle, Jisung, _you—_ ”

“Jeno, stop crying.”

Jaemin thinks about Mrs. Lee, how her eyes, while more red and puffy than usual, still, sparkle with love and adoration whenever she looks at her son. 

“Your mom would be sad if you’re sad.”

“I don’t _care_ if she’s sad!” Jeno bursts out, letting out another wail as he screws his eyes shut, curling in on himself even more. “Dad’s gone, and if she’s not sad about that then I don’t care how she feels.”

“Don’t say that about your mom, Jeno. She’s sad about your dad too. You just don’t see it because you’re out here moping,” Jaemin declares with a frown.

“You don’t need to be so gloomy, Jeno. I’m going to always be here, right by your side.”

“That’s a lie. You’re going to die too, one day.”

“Well, not unless we promise to make each other happy!”

“What good does that do?”

“My mom says if we promise to always be there to make each other happy, we’ll stick together forever and _ever._ ”

Jeno’s breath hitches.

“Forever?"

A pause.

"How long is forever?” Jeno asks in a small voice.

“Forever means a long, long time. So long that maybe we’ll still see each other in another life maybe, even after we go to heaven! Isn’t that nice, Jeno? We could play together in every lifetime, always right by each other’s side.”

Jeno hiccups, wiping his snot-filled nose as he looks up at Jaemin.

“Really?”

“Yup! So don’t be sad anymore, okay Jeno?”

“You have to pinky promise. Otherwise, I won’t believe you. And if you break your promise, I’ll be super mad at you and won’t talk to you anymore!”

“If you don’t talk to me, how am I supposed to stay by your side forever?” Jaemin wonders.

“Oh.” Jeno pouts. “I don’t know. Just don’t break the promise, 'kay?”

“Okay. Deal.”

Under the terra-cotta colored light of the setting sun, Jaemin made a promise. And he knew that if it meant Jeno would continue to smile at him like that, he would keep it no matter what.

-+-

_When we meet as adults, you're always more discerning. I don't blame you. Yet, always, you forgive me. As if you understand what's going on, and you're making it up for all the lifetimes in which one of us doesn't exist, and the ones where we just, barely, never meet._

_I hate those. I prefer the ones in which you kill me._

-+-

In another life, maybe their story would have been a happy ending. 

As Jaemin feels the ground shatter beneath him, he reaches a hand out towards the figure standing up on the platform above him. Jeno’s electric blue hair sways in the gusts created by the falling debris, glowing eyes as cold as steel as he looks down on Jaemin impassively. 

The hole he shot in Jaemin’s chest hurts like hell, but he’s more pained by the way Jeno grips his ray gun and doesn’t spare a glance behind him as he walks towards the teleporter that just opened up for him.

That’s the last of Jeno he sees before he begins to fall, the ERROR warnings in his eyepiece reflecting the luminescent skyscrapers around him as he plummets. As he hurtles towards the ground, he thinks about how he and Lee Jeno were never destined to be happy together. When you realize the love of your life turns out to be an android programmed by the government to unravel everything you’ve been working towards (a better future, a chance at escaping this wretched city), most people would choose to sacrifice their happiness for the greater good.

But not Jaemin.

His last words to Jeno still ring in his ears as his heart begins to slow.

“I hope my willingness to die at your hand, smiling up at you while your gun is pressed to my heart, shocks you a little. Puts a crack in your walls. Because while you claim to have never felt any affection towards me, I know otherwise," he breathes out. He stares resolutely into Jeno's soulless eyes, grips on tightly to the mechanical joints peeking through the broken artificial skin. 

"You’re a goddamn liar, Lee Jeno. A terrible one. The only chance you ever had at feeling human was with me. And when you pull that trigger, you lose a part of yourself you'll never get back.”

When the time came for Jaemin to choose, he chose the one where Jeno would be alive, regardless of the fact that Jeno could be reprogrammed again and again if need be. Regardless of the fact that it meant Jeno would be the one to kill him, instead. 

It’s just that he didn’t expect it to be this _cruel_ , how he didn’t hesitate for a moment, even after all that, before pulling the trigger.

 _Ah,_ his chest hurts. 

But he isn’t sure if it’s because of the wound, or the shell of a broken heart. 

That’s the last thought that runs through Jaemin’s mind when he hits the ground and blacks out.

-+-

_But when all's said and done, I'd rather surrender to you in other ways._

_  
_

_Even though each time, I know I'll see you again, I always wonder._

_Is this the last time?_

_Is that really you?_

_**And what if you're already perfectly happy without me?** _

-+-

Jeno looks stunning under the neon lights of the club they’re at, the thumping EDM reverberating through the mass of sweaty young adults.

To be honest, it probably wasn’t the most romantic of spots to realize you were in love with your best friend, but after a night of frenzied drinking to celebrate the aftermath of finals of their junior year, Jaemin was ready to confess on the spot. And he almost would have, if it weren't for a couple of things.

Firstly, if it weren’t for the drunk girl bumping into his side and spilling her drink all over him.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” she slurs, grabbing onto his arm to stabilize herself. Jaemin almost gags at the sickly strawberry vodka scent that now emanates from the front of his shirt. He contemplates washing the shirt, but then decides that no amount of detergent would be able to save this lost cause. He belatedly thinks to himself that he wants to go home. 

_Ah, what the fuck_ , Jaemin thinks, grabbing the nearest bottle on the counter before chugging it to give himself some liquid courage. Grimacing at the taste, he instinctively finds himself looking out towards the dance floor again towards Jeno. 

The thing is, Jeno’s popular. He’s got good looks, a solid GPA, and a nice, easy-going personality. He’s a bit more on the reserved side of the social clique, but he knows how to have a good time. Jaemin is right up there next to him, arguably louder than Jeno, but never quite as well-liked. But that was okay because as long as Jeno liked him enough to stick by his side, Jaemin was content.

But there was a problem.

Which brings him to the second reason he almost would have confessed: the person Jeno's standing next to. He watches as a grinning Jeno leans forward to kiss a laughing Renjun on the lips, an ugly sensation rearing its head at the bottom of his stomach. 

He looks away. He should be happy. He should be happy that two of his best friends are happy, but when he sees them, he feels sick. And he hates himself for it. 

Jaemin almost would have almost confessed, if it weren't for the fact that Jeno didn't feel the same towards him.

The neon lights continue to pulse as Jeno melts back into the crowd, hand wrapped around the waist of someone Jaemin knew would never be him.

-+-

Jaemin wakes up from his dreams with a start. 

His watch now reads two o'clock. Jaemin blearily rubs his eyes as he habitually inclines his head towards the end of the table and is startled wide awake when he sees the back of an oddly familiar mess of brown hair looking around awkwardly. For a moment, his chest tightens. 

_He's here._

The memory of a broad back clothed in a winter coat as black as coal, breaths puffing out over blonde strands.

The boy turns around, round glasses flashing against the sunlight filtering in as he notices Jaemin and the empty seats around him. He brightens instantly, soft lips turning up into an earnest smile that tugs at the poor strings of Jaemin's heart. 

“Hey, um, do you think I can sit here? There aren't any other spaces left in the library.”

Not anticipating the sudden inquiry, Jaemin feels his throat close up, and barely manages out a choked, "Sure."

"Okay, nice, thank you so much!" 

Seeing the familiar smile directed towards him made it hard to breathe for Jaemin all of a sudden.

“I’m Jeno, by the way. And your name..?”

A memory of an extended hand and brunette hair.

“Please," he croaks out, echoing the words of a bygone era. "Call me Jaemin.”

Jeno nods. “It’s nice to meet you Jaemin.” As he sets down his bag, Jaemin takes note of a flower charm hanging from the largest pocket.

A memory of carnations blowing away in the wind.

"Um, sorry if this comes off as weird, but..." Jeno looks over at Jaemin hesitantly. “Have we met somewhere before?”

And just like that, Jaemin feels like he can breathe again as an easy smile overtakes his countenance.

Memories of a promise made amongst the reeds, of ice-cold eyes and the ground falling out beneath him, the drunken haze of a nightclub, and so many more spanning the countless lifetimes Jaemin has endured. All for his sake. 

_This time, I’ll make it right._

“Yeah. Yeah, we have, actually. Would you like to know how?”

-+-

_Ah, but I don't blame you; I'll never burn as brilliantly as you. It's only fair that I should be the one to chase you across ten, twenty-five, a hundred lifetimes, until I find the one where you'll return to me._

**Author's Note:**

> [rolls back onstage] psst thank you for reading hehe 
> 
> note: pink carnations mean "i miss you" and heather means "solitude" :)
> 
> comments, no matter how small, are appreciated! i want to know what you think <3
> 
> i hope you felt something while reading it (ㆁᴗㆁ✿)
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/amorsichengs) [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/amorsichengs)


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